Faceless, Heartless
by Riaru Takeru
Summary: After Arya helps her brother fight against the Army of the Undead and journeys around the world, she drowns but awakes back in the roof of St. Bart's with Moriarty's corpse nearby. Mycroft did need a person like John sometime soon.
1. Chapter 1

**Faceless, Heartless Chapter 1**

It was rumbling. Arya grabbed onto the side of the thrashing ship, wiping the rain and seawater out of her face with her left hand. Grumbling, she yelled to the captain.

"How much longer are we going captain?" Then she quickly spat out the salt water that invaded her mouth.

"At least two more hours of the storm, my lady!" The captain yelled back but his terrified face betrayed his words, telling Arya that it was going to rage on for much longer.

"Give me the rope!" Yelling out to no one in particular, "I'm going to tie up the sails if no one is brave enough to do it!" She saw from the corner of her eye a deck boy grabbing onto a rope and trying to walk towards her. However, when he was only a few steps away from her, the ship lurched towards her side, causing the young boy to hit against Arya and she lost her grip onto the ship's railing.

"Lady Arya!" The deck boy held onto her wrist but he was not strong enough. Her body weight was too large for a scrawny boy to hold onto.

"Let me go. It's okay." The boy had a startled look in his eyes.

"But my lady一"

"No, it's today. Let go." Then the ship lurched again, making the boy lose his grip.

'At least I'll be with father, mother, and Robb.'

Then she plunged into the water.

* * *

All she felt was air being pushed out of her, such as when she fell backward during her training with Jon. She also felt some water in her lungs and coughed it out. Blinking her eyes hard, she was able to finally see that there was a blue sky and felt the hard ground around her. She turned to her left expecting to see dirt, rock, or sand. Or whatever land that she washed up on. However, Arya instead saw a gray, hard ground and small gray walls. It looked like stone, but it was much smoother and harder.

 _ **'Well, not today.'**_

Coughing some more water out of her lungs, she lifted herself up and saw that she had her bag of faces and her trusty Needle with her. Then she looked around and saw that a black form that she thought was nothing was, in fact, a person.

She walked closer to the body and saw the blood pooling around the head. His body was still warm when Arya took off her soggy gloves and touched his face. Arya was unfamiliar with how there were no real cuts until she lifted his head up and found that the back of his head looked it was blown up. With what, she did not know. In his left hand, he held a shiny, metallic thing. She didn't know what it was. Looking at his clothes, she saw that it was considerably different from what she was familiar with.

What really disturbed Arya was the face itself. The man looked crazed and rather happy when he died. She knew that the faces of men usually looked horrified when they died. Closing her eyes for a second she sorted out what she would do. Either he was killed or he killed himself, with what he was holding onto. She was not sure what it could do but she put it into her knapsack, but she saw her knife that she cut out faces with. Looking back at the man, and then looking back at the knife, she sighed and went on her knees to take his face.

It was hard to focus. Arya had not had to take a face ever since Walder Frey because of the War against the Wights. However, she had not lost her skills and cleanly removed the face from the now-literally-faceless man. She had his face now, but her clothes were very different from the man. She could not use the coat that the man wore, but his undershirt should be fine. But Arya saw that he also wore a thinner overcoat that was slightly stained. She took off his coats and his undershirt. It was not too different from the shirts she wore when she was in the Red Keep but it was very thin and not scratchy. Maybe this man was a noble? Or a royal?

However, Arya did not feel bad defiling the dead. She had done this several times to save her life. If the man was already dead, at least she could live by taking his clothes and face.

Even more strangely, the man had another thin layer of cloth under the undershirt. How many layers do one dress here?! But she took that off, thinking it mostly because it would hide her breasts a bit. The trousers the man had on were taken off, and luckily he had another layer of cloth over his privies. She did not appreciate looking at the naked bodies of men who she killed/took clothes from no matter how long she has been doing it.

After putting on the clothes she realized that they were a bit big, but it would not matter that much after she put on the man's face. Curse her small stature!

However, once she pulled back her long hair to match the dead man and put on the face, she heard a door opening and a small crowd of white coats coming inside. Then, one woman screamed out loud and a swarm of black coats came out of the door after pushing all the white coats away. They had gleaming, black things that she had no idea what it could do. However, she grabbed and pulled out Needle that was hanging around her waist still. One man spoke into a black box but she could not make out what he was saying.

Putting her right arm behind her, Arya turned to face the black coats. They were wearing masks and closed in to make a circle around her. However, the ones who got behind her saw the faceless body lying in his only his underclothes. Some of them yelped and quickly turned to face her. Or at least her in the face of the dead man.

She then heard the hitting of a cane on the ground. She turned to face the door again, finding that the white coats were cowering inside the door, or wherever it led. Then, another figure wearing a black coat emerged, but he was wearing something similar to the dead man. He didn't hold a cane, but rather something black attached to a cane looking stick.

"Moriarty..." The man noticed that Arya was carrying a thin blade.

"Who are you?" Arya tried to make her voice into a male's voice, but she could not replicate the dead man because she had not ever heard his voice before. Instead of answering, the man closed into Arya and took out his own blade from his cane-thing.

He narrowed his eyes while tracing the ground in a circle and Arya followed his steps. "Your face is the same as him, but your voice clearly tells me that you are not familiar with his voice, not his manner of speaking. Your way of standing shows that you are accustomed to horse back riding and walking elegantly. You are just impersonating Jim Moriarty. He would have no doubt taken his gun out instead of a thin blade"

Arya lunged swiftly but the man stepped to the side. He, too, was skilled in the art of the blade but had a different style that she did not recognize. However, he was not as skilled as Arya herself and she was able to subdue him while she held the blade against the man's throat. She smiled cockily, but she felt a slight sting on her own neck and she quickly blacked out.

* * *

When Arya came to, she was in a small, brightly lit room. However, she was unable to see a window except for a looking glass that clearly showed her reflection. Trying to lift her hands up, she saw that they were bound to a chair with metal clasps. Arya sighed because if it were a regular rope, she would be able to escape easily. She looked up and saw the source of the brightness. It was as bright as the sun itself illuminating a dark room, but she did not feel the heat. Rather, it was nice and cool. Her throat was parched, no doubt from swallowing seawater and not drinking water for several hours. Then, she heard something click behind her and a couple of footsteps.

"Jim Moriarty. Or someone who is impersonating Moriarty." A deep voice rang through the small room. She could not turn her head to face the voice but she replied.

"My mistake in taking a face of a person I do not know, but so many recognize." Arya sighed. "Who are you?" The footsteps came closer and now she saw a very tall, pale man wearing a similar clothing to the man she fought.

"No, who are you, impersonator?" Arya narrowed her eyes. The man pressed something that looked like a button and it made her metal clamps around her hands loosen and let go of her. She stood up and faced the man who looked back down at her.

Arya then ripped the face she was wearing off and smirked as the man widened his eyes.

"You are addressing Arya Stark of House Stark, Follower of the Many Faced God, and the sister of the King of the Iron Throne and Ruler of Westeros, Jon Targaryen." She paused. "Now, who are you?"

The man's wide eyes narrowed into a stare. "There is no place called Westeros. There is no king called John Targaryen." Arya crinkled her brows. "But I can tell that you are not lying. Sherlock Holmes." He held out a hand towards Arya who looked at him quizzically.

"Is it common here to give your hand to another? Where I come from, you are to bend the knee." Sherlock quickly took his hand back into his coat pocket and instead said,

"Marvelous. I've never heard of any country 'bending the knee.' Even Mycroft doesn't do that to the Queen." He studied Arya's face closer.

"How have you attached another face to yours so easily? It is not made out of wax. In fact, Moriarty's body was found faceless."

Arya frowned. "I was given the power from the Many-Faced God. He is usually called Death."

"Hmm… Your accent and words tell me that you use an archaic style of English and are familiar with formal words. You look around sixteen or seventeen, came from a high-class family from the looks of the discarded and wet clothes around Moriarty, undoubtedly from when you took his clothes and changed into them. They are made from wool and not from cotton and shows that it was hand made instead of factory produced. It was tailored for you and yet it is for a more masculine figure. Moreover, it is wet from seawater, not salt water. However, the nearest ocean is 10 miles, but it was too wet so a cab driver would not have let you get on and the street was closed off due to Mycroft yet your clothes show that it was soaking wet when you came to the top of the roof. So, how'd you do it?" Arya was surprised. She was sure that she was not in Westeros because of the building's structure and the clothes of the people around here, but she also knew that she was not in Essos.

"I was on a ship during a storm and I fell overboard and I appeared wherever that body was located. I took his face and clothes but found people with weird clothes and some black metallic things all pointed at me. Those are not bows and arrows nor swords, so why were you pointing them at me? And the other man, what style一"

"No, you have to answer my questions first. Don't you see? You are a prisoner. Whether you say that you were just taking his face, you could be an accomplice, no matter how ridiculous that sounds." Arya narrowed her eyes and sat back down on the chair.

"Well then. Ask away. You are expected to answer my questions in turn."

* * *

'How brilliant!' Sherlock was overjoyed. Well, overjoyed was an understatement. He felt high on cocaine without even it being in his system. It was not even morphine, the lesser drug that you can get from any doctors.

After series of questions and using up several hours, Sherlock found in detail, of the place the young woman came from. However, she stopped answering after asking about some more sentimental topics, not that he cared much.

' _Not now Sherlock.'_ He heard John's voice ringing in his head but ignored it.

"Now you answer my questions, Sherlock Holmes," the young girl said with venom in her voice. "Where am I?" However, Sherlock chose not to answer and instead left the room leaving a fuming and shocked Arya. Not willing to allow the man without giving her some answers, she followed after him quickly.

"Where am I? I demand answers."

"Oh now. You said that you were a lady. Now you're just complaining like a child." Arya paused for a moment but continued following Sherlock. "You're not stupid, Arya Stark. Use your brain. Your intellect." He tapped her head while keeping his stride. Furrowing her brows, Arya looked around while striding along the pale intellect.

"It's… so clean. I have never seen such architecture before. It is brightly light although there are no windows. I have never seen such lamps or light like these in my lifetime. However, it seems like these are artificial because I cannot feel the heat of the sun nor of its rays. Something magical or something far advanced to anything of my country." The male just hummed.

"And these clothes I have on. They are not as scratchy as wool or any natural fibers Westeros has. They are far superior to whatever quality I have seen before." Quietly, she said, "even better than Joffrey's." Sherlock quirked an eyebrow at her last words but continued on, now reaching the stairs after walking through a very long corridor.

"Very good. Now, tell me, what do you see out here." He stopped in front of a window that showed the desolate streets, signaling that it was very early in the morning.

"Cobblestone floors, but also slabs of stone that I do not recognize. They go on for several yards. How could a simple street afford stone roads? It does not seem as if this is an important place at all. In Westeros, I have only seen the Red Keep having such pristine floors, Winterfell does not have many stone floors because we need all the room we need and stone is valuable. Mass-produced? Or is it something else?"

Sherlock looked towards her and raised his eyebrow. "Similar." He then went up the staircase again and Arya followed.

* * *

"Ah, you're finally here." It was that man from before. Arya narrowed her eyes.

"I was just showing her wound." Then the man scoffed at Sherlock.

"Showing her around? That's very unlike you Sherlock." He smirked. "Well have a seat, Miss Stark." In response, Arya frowned but still sat down.

"I'm sick of asking questions. Now, give me some answers." The man opposite from her looked piercingly.

"Ask away then, young lady." Arya paused and blinked but continued on.

"What is your name?"

"Mycroft Holmes."

"Related to this man?" Arya pointed at Sherlock.

Mycroft smirked and replied, "Unfortunately, yes." Meanwhile, Sherlock quietly exclaimed, "What?!"

"Where am I?"

"London. You've probably never heard of it. It is the year 2014, and looking at the articles you had on you at the time we met, it seems that you are not from this time period, nor area. I would surmise it is sometime close to the Dark Ages, but hearing of your answers to Sherlock's questions, it seems as you are not even from this world, if you can believe it."

"What?" Arya was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"I've gotten your blood tested for signs of drugs which means that you are not hallucinating and you do not indicate that you are lying to me. However, your blood does not match anyone in our database. Your family, Stark, is not a noble house nor a very common one. Nowadays, we do not have many noble houses that are powerful. It's not a monarchy anymore, Miss Stark."

While Arya tried to discern Mycroft's words, he clicked on a small button out of numerous other ones and soon a woman came in with refreshments and snacks.

"Well, I'm sure you're famished, Miss Stark. Have some refreshments." Arya meanwhile gulped at the array of desserts that were laid out in front of her. They were none that she had seen before. She had not able to eat a lot of fruits or sweets for several months because she was helping the restoration of land after the Great Winter. Not shying away, Arya first took a large gulp of the lemon water that was inside a glass pitcher. She raised her eyebrow. Glass was hard to create.

Then she turned her eyes to the sweets and took a small pie looking sweet that had fruits on top of them.

"What's this?" she asked.

Mycroft smiled. "A tart. You have a very good eye. I highly recommend that sweet first." Sherlock did not look at the sweets and just poured himself some tea instead.

"Aren't you eating?" Arya looked conspicuously at Mycroft.

"It's not poisoned, so don't worry." Mycroft looked longingly at the desserts. "I'm just… abstaining from eating too much." Now, Sherlock scoffed. "He's on a diet."

"What's a diet?" Mycroft and Sherlock both raised their eyebrows but answered her question all the same.

Arya just laughed softly. "Well, King Robert surely did not go on diets. Rather, I think he died because he ate and drank so much.

"Oh? Do tell us this story." Arya did not know what compelled her to tell about her childhood, where she was young and naive. However, she knew that these two men seemed familiar. Like...Jon.

* * *

"Tony? Who names their child Tony?" Arya laughed a little. It was only Mycroft in the room with her now. Sherlock left several hours ago and Mycroft only recently got back from whatever job he needed to do first.

Mycroft in turn smiled. "Usually, people say that about Sherlock and myself."

"Well, Tony is almost as bad as Joffrey, but nothing can be worse than Joffrey."

"And why is that?"

Arya furrowed her brows. "He beheaded my father. Or at least ordered it." After a pause, Mycroft set his cup of tea down.

"I'm not very familiar with the feeling of empathy, but I do give my condolences, Miss Stark," Arya smirked at him.

"Oh please, just call me Arya. I'm not really a lady anymore. Thank the Gods."

Mycroft looked back at Arya quizzically.

"Well, I doubt that you would have gotten much training if you were a lady. How did you become so skilled with a blade?" Arya then proceeded into talking of her adventures with Syrio and Jaqen H'ghar.

Meanwhile, Mycroft texted to his secretary, ' _Cancel the rest of the plans for today. I have to entertain a young lady.'_


	2. Chapter 2

**Faceless, Heartless Ch 2**

When Sherlock left, it saddened Arya because he reminded her so much of her brother, Jon, looking similar and whatnot.

However, Mycroft. She felt something similar. He reminded Arya of Jaqen H'ghar. More than not, Arya missed the exhilarating feeling that she had at the House of Black and White. She, of course, hated the Waif and cleaning the temple, but she had learned valuable lessons from Jaqen. She really admired him, but she had even more important matters to finish before she became a full faceless man.

Mycroft saw something in Arya's face. Of course, he did. Arya could tell that he was as piercing as Jaqen himself. He would no doubt win in the Game of Faces.

"So do I remind you of someone?" Mycroft took a sip of tea. Arya did not understand why Sherlock and Mycroft drank so much tea.

She shrugged and replied, "Yes. You are similar to one of my teachers. Who taught me how to be a Faceless Man."

"I see. I doubt he knew as much as I do, however." Arya chuckled.

"That is most likely the truth. I have not talked to anyone more intelligent than you or your brother in Westeros. Even the maesters can not match your wisdom."

Mycroft hummed into his tea. "I don't consider myself wise, but rather calculative. But I am most likely wiser than Sherlock for sure. He is not a friendly person."

"He is similar to my brother Jon. He is aloof and cold, but in truth, he is very warm and caring." Mycroft snorted at that.

"Warm? Caring? From what you said to me, Miss Stark, Westeros is not a very warm or caring country. Rather the opposite. It's very similar here in Britain. Yet, without the bloodshed. Most bloodshed is done by guns."

"Guns?"

"The metallic item you had inside your satchel, undoubtedly Moriarty's, is what you call a gun. Also, the weapons aimed at you by my team were guns. They shoot a projectile many miles per hour. Almost like a bow and arrow, but without reloading as much."

Arya raised her eyebrows.

"I've always enjoyed archery, although I have not done so in a few months. I have been busy slashing away at wights with dragonglass."

In response, Mycroft also rose his eyebrows.

"I have a proposition to you, Arya."

"Let's hear it then."

"You are here in this land illegally, although you may deny it. Yet, you are a great asset from your skill sets to your absent identity in the world. I ask of you to work for me as an undercover agent. Of course with several months or years of training."

"Hmm… It sounds interesting but why should I entertain you? I could very well just try to go home." Arya took a sip of the tea that Mycroft drank but pulled back because of the heat.

"Well, Miss Arya, you do not seem to want to go home," Mycroft smirked and took another sip of tea. "If you were so desperate to go home, you would have demanded that from me the first time you met me."

Arya smiled.

"I believe in the Many-Faced God."

"Ah, Death, as we call him?"

"That is correct. I was taught by my teacher that whenever I see death, I would say 'not today,' but if it was 'today' that I died in Westeros and awoke in Britain, it would mean that the Many-Faced God wants me to stay here. For what purpose? I do not know."

"Yes, I thought it might be that." Mycroft stood up from his chair, taking his phone and his umbrella from the desk and walked out. Although he did not explicitly indicate for her to follow, Arya knew that the Holmes brothers showed it in their body language when they wanted one to follow them around. "It is now getting late. My secretary has arranged for a place for you to stay temporarily. I will see you tomorrow, Arya." Mycroft left swiftly, leaving Arya to look at the female that was tapping furiously onto her black box.

"What's that?" Arya questioned. The woman glanced at Arya. "It's called a phone. You can communicate with others." After several seconds, she stopped her tapping and reached towards a cabinet and took out another similar phone. "You will be able to get Mycroft's orders from him by text." Arya rose her eyebrow.

' _Order me?'_

"I will teach you how to use it while we go to your temporary residence. I am to stay with you for the first few days to help you get accommodated to the current innovations we have. I doubt that they are anything you have seen before." The woman gave a slight smile. "You'll appreciate it."

She walked in the general direction Mycroft left from. "Oh, and I am called Anthea, Miss Arya."

* * *

"Where's the chamber pot?!" Arya cried out after reaching a flat nearby Mycroft's office. While on the drive to the flat, Arya kept questioning about the car, such as how it ran without anything pulling it, but Anthea only responded after taking a couple seconds tapping on the 'phone' and saying something very simple back. It irritated Arya, but she would have to adjust.

"What's a chamber pot?" Anthea replied back from a bedroom near Arya's.

"I need to relieve myself. You know?" Anthea just said, "Oh." She came out of the bedroom and took Arya to the restroom, where she showed her how to flush, turn on the faucet, and told(commanded) her to use soap.

"It prevents you from getting sick. Many people in Medieval Europe died because they kept passing diseases to others by not using soap or washing well." Arya just guessed that people in Britain or in this world were all similar to Mycroft and Sherlock. Oh, how wrong she was…

"Okay, now please get out." Arya pushed Anthea out while she continued to tap some more into the 'phone.' The whole "restroom" was very impressive. Not even Kings or Queens would have such a grandiose place as their washing room. The most surprising thing was the faucets that would spout water like a river. But, the most impressive thing was the 'toilet.' If she got too comfortable here, it would be almost impossible for her to adjust back to a regular chamber pot. She loved the scent of the soap too.

' _Sansa would love Britain,'_ Arya thought longingly, but she knows that Westeros would be fine without her. Moreover, Arya was built for adventure, not staying cooped up in a castle and being a 'lady,'

While getting into bed, Arya contemplated about Mycroft's interesting offer. ' _It would be a great way to adjust to this world.'_ And she fell asleep on the soft bed.

* * *

Arya woke up to a loud ringing noise. It was very obnoxious and loud but she was unable to pinpoint where it was coming from. She looked around and found that it was coming from under her and it was her 'phone' making a loud sound while displaying the word 'alarm' on it. She tried to stop it by tapping on it, then throwing it on the ground, but it kept ringing. Finally, after several minutes of continuous ringing, it finally stopped and Arya plopped back down on the bed, trying to rest a little bit more, but after a couple more minutes, the phone started ringing again to Arya's dismay.

However, Anthea came in soon after, picked up the phone on the ground and magically stopped the ringing. "You know, you could just press stop." Arya looked at her sheepishly but got out of the bed to get dressed.

"Here, wear this." Anthea handed her trousers and a dress shirt, surprising Arya.

"I can wear these clothes?!" For the past year, Arya was forced to wear stuffy and scratchy dresses or formal wear. "Thank you!"

Anthea raised her eyebrow at Arya's happiness but did not comment on it.

"We need to go back to Mr. Holmes' office. He is going to brief you on what you are going to do now." Arya was unfamiliar with some words Anthea used, as her words were much more informal than his, but Arya got used to it a little bit.

Anthea opened the car door and motioned Arya in, and she followed suit. "I still do not understand how this 'car' functions." Anthea was tapping away on her phone.

"Don't worry, you'll understand as you live around Britain and other places.

"Other places?"

* * *

When Arya came into Mycroft's office, she was forced to do an assessment and found her lacking in most subjects, but it was mostly to be expected. She was to learn in a private school for several months while learning how the world functions and how to use her skills in the world. Needle was also given back to her.

"Now please, don't swing that sword around. I understand that swords are common in Westeros, but not in Britain. Or any place in the world really. You would be taken into custody by the police."

"Police?"

"People who enforce the law. I doubt that there was anything really similar from your home country."

Arya chuckled. "Similar factions existed, but they were not very moral themselves."

"Not everything is better in Britain. Or this world. Immorality continues to spread through the hearts of people."

Arya hummed. "You don't sound like you care much tho." Mycroft set down his china cup.

"People are goldfish. They are numerous, brainless, and ultimately the most selfish creatures."

"Well, am I a goldfish too?" Arya asked seriously.

"No," Mycroft smiled slightly. "I can't really consider you a 'person' either, do you not agree?' Arya hummed in agreeance.

* * *

One thing Arya's teachers found out was that Arya was very stubborn, wise, and very proficient in her words. She was able to influence people easily (Arya slightly thanked Sansa for her teachings. Maybe even Cersei too).

She also loved the feeling of shooting a gun. It was faster than what her eye could capture and it was more powerful than a swing of a sword if aimed correctly. However, she still cherished Needle.

Stealth and deception were just some of her assets and she was able to hone the ability of the Faceless Men to accommodate missions in Britain.

She was taken to some missions after three months of training and tutoring, and she excelled far beyond the expectation of the leaders and was whisked away to MI-6 for three months. Three tiring months. They were interesting at least. Without even using the ability of the Faceless Men, Arya was able to successfully complete numerous tasks that were given to her.

Although she worked for the British government, Arya was not loyal to it at all, but rather Mycroft. Half of her work time was spent talking to Mycroft and also being his bodyguard while using a face of another person.

Moriarty's face was used very effectively, crushing his criminal organization and force, allowing Sherlock to easily finish all he needed to do in seven months while doing several experiments.

Arya and Sherlock tested the limits of the ability of the Faceless Men, finding out that the retina and iris of the wearer of the face will become the same as the face's owner as well as their fingerprints. The body, as Arya already knew, also changed into the same shape as the face's owner. Sherlock marveled at the impossible but accepted it because he was given true evidence for these 'magical' happenings.

However, Arya wanted to explore beyond what she learned from her short time with the Faceless Men and wanted to imitate Jaqen H'ghar's ability to have the same face as a person who was alive without taking their face. Arya still remembered the day that she went blind and truly learned how to be a faceless man. After countless days of meditation and loss of sleep (Sherlock also meditated during this time with either three nicotine patches or small doses of drugs), Arya finally found a method of having the same face as another living person without taking their face. It had limitations of time and some of the body features not being the same, but it worked.

Out of them all, Mycroft was the gladdest with Arya's powers, as it would let him achieve many more missions secretly and effectively. He did not say it explicitly, but Sherlock knew.

"John, pass me my laptop." Arya looked at Sherlock and raised her eyebrow.

"When are you going to stop calling for John? And get it yourself." Arya looked back at her own laptop, after finally getting somewhat used to it after spending nine months learning about new technology. She was much more advanced than regular civilians but was still far from hacking into large company databases.

"And also, when are you going to see John again? Your name was already cleared last month ." After Arya heard the story of Sherlock vs. Moriarty from Anthea, Arya quickly used the face of Moriarty to prove Sherlock's innocence. The media still fixated on Sherlock's death and his innocence after several weeks of constant news articles being published and people on TV stating 'Yeah, I knew he was innocent.' Hypocrites, really.

"Well, when are you going to tell Mycroft?"

Arya stopped typing for a moment. "Tell him what, I pray you tell me." She resumed her typing.

"You know what I mean, Arya. I knew since two months ago." Arya laughed.

"Liking someone does not mean that you romantically like them, Sherlock. I'm sure John would agree."

Two months ago, Arya formally started to be Mycroft's bodyguard after learning how to take the face of a living man.

* * *

"You do know that I am capable of facing that man by myself, Arry." Mycroft got off his private car and walked into the warehouse. "They will not be able to harm me, but I they will not extend this hospitality to you."

'Arry' meanwhile stood stiffly next to Mycroft in the face of a man in his early 30's. "I do not doubt your capabilities, but I am not about to leave you in even the slightest danger. You are the one who I am loyal to, not the British government." ' _Except if the British government is you.'_

Mycroft only sighed and continued his walking.

When they both got inside, they were greeted by a half a dozen men who were all holding a weapon of some sort, but mostly guns.

"Oi, this is not what we told you to do. You were to come alone." Mycroft quirked his lips.

"Not to worry. This man is No One." Then Mycroft narrowed his eyes. "But, if you harm him, I will consider that as harming my own body." He looked around a little. "Anyhow, you have more men here, do you not?" The leader only grunted and told his men to get a chair for Mycroft and he sat down with elegance.

The negotiation was going fine until Cambridge started goading Mycroft by talking about Sherlock and. Arya really did not know why the man was being so stupid. He was either trying to make himself appear powerful by bad-mouthing Sherlock or just trying to anger Mycroft. Either way, it did work because Mycroft gave Arya a signal to eliminate all of them. And she was happy to comply.

First, she targeted the ones who had guns first. Only three had guns and the rest had bats. Why bats? She really did not know. One man had a small pistol, most likely the one to react first and it would be much easier for him to shoot the first bullet at her. The other two held modified rifles that would allow them to aim easily, but it took time to release the safety. Their hand positions also told her that they were not very familiar with shooting with rifles.

Taking out her gun that was hidden inside her sleeve, already ready to fire, Arya shot at the man with the pistol, then quickly shot the other two gunners while they lifted their own rifles. They were all hit with fatal shots. The other three, including Cambridge, were stupid enough to think about grabbing the guns that their companions dropped and instead charged at Mycroft and Arya. Meanwhile, Arya only had to press her index finger three more times.

After Arya dropped her gun to reload it with six more bullets, Mycroft noticed a slight gleam in the shadows by the boxes and yelled out, "ARYA!" He ran towards her and pushed her to the floor, the bullet narrowly missing both of them. During the fall, Arya aimed and shot the man that was hiding and the man also went down.

Mycroft was on top of her for several seconds, both of them breathing in harsh, labored breaths. He then lifted his body up and asked, "Are you okay?"

Arya frowned and yelled, "What were you thinking, Mycroft?! You could have been hit instead!" Mycroft tossed his body to the side and laid down on the ground. She took off 'Arry's' face, making her sigh in relief when the cool air touched her own face.

"I couldn't very well let my charge and non-person friend get hurt, could I?" Arya quickly looked towards Mycroft and saw his accomplished grin. And she giggled. Like a little girl. It has been a long time since she did so.

"Well, next time, you cannot do something so rash Mycroft. It will most likely not be as kind as today."

"Didn't you tell me this? Not today?" Arya smiled and they both chuckled.

* * *

Sherlock came to Mycroft's office in a few hours after midnight groaning. His nose was also bleeding.

Usually, the office would be empty save Mycroft's room, but today, Arya stayed late to watch (stalk) John and Sherlock's reunion. It was very interesting, to say the least.

"Oh please, John was just being difficult." Sherlock groaned out when Arya smirked at Sherlock. "Maybe I should've made you go instead with my face and I could have just watched."

"John would probably recognize that it was not you, Sherlock. He is not an idiot, after all."

Arya started packing up several laptops she had on top of a big plain wooden desk. "You taught him how to observe people and he does recognize things easily." ' _Not to mention his fiance'_

"And Mycroft?"

"He watched it too, but he missed the best moment- when you got a bloody nose."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and left to get some more ice.

* * *

When John first met Arya, she was normal.

Sherlock barged into Arya's flat by picking the lock and dragged her on her precious day off. She was angry because she was getting ready to have some fun with Anthea, but Sherlock also pulled her along too. Arya knew that she should have just ignored Sherlock...

When they arrived at 221B Baker Street, the floor was littered with pieces of paper and letters.

"Okay, Swan or Sydney Opera House?" Arya opened her mouth in shock and annoyance.

"Did you really call us out here so you could ask us a stupid question about napkins?!" Anthea just slid some letters from the wooden chair and plopped down in resignation.

"Of course I did." Sherlock shook his head. "Oh no, no, no." He pointed at John and Mary who were sitting on the sofa calmly but with an amazed expression. "I needed to introduce you to them after the whole fiasco about friends and best man and what not."

Arya took a deep sigh and facepalmed, imitating a character she saw on the telly a few days ago.

"Sherlock, who is she? I know who Anthea is." Mary looked at her husband weirdly. "No, no. She's Mycroft's assistant," John assured her.

Arya glared at Sherlock, but replied, "I am Arya Stark. I am currently working as Mycroft's bodyguard. I helped Sherlock get his innocence and reputation back."

John looked surprised and thanked Arya. Arya quickly became friends with Mary, who was very similar to her mother for some reason.

* * *

The next time John saw Arya was when Mycroft asked (summoned) John to an empty warehouse. Arya was not normal.

Arya, or 'Arry' stood next to Mycroft, holding a steady gaze at John who was surprised at a bodyguard next to Mycroft. Whenever he saw Mycroft, it was usually alone, or people were not close by.

"I thought you have a female bodyguard now. Arya, I think?" Mycroft chuckled.

"She is here." He pointed to Arry. "Arya's just posing as 'Arry' today." Arya knew that John was a close friend of Sherlock and was trusted by Mycroft, so she did not have a problem pulling off the mask of 'Arry' and watched John's shocked expression with a smile.

"Good evening, John."

John soon became used to seeing Arry and Arya around such as when Sherlock had to be bailed out from jail due to being found overdosed on drugs and when Sherlock became crazed and started shooting at everything inside his flat.

John noted that Arya was similar to Mycroft in his undoubted care towards Sherlock, but was rather like John himself in Arya's relationship with Mycroft.

' _Well, someone needed to watch over him too, I suppose'_


	3. Chapter 3

Arya knew that Mycroft was struggling with something when she came into his office on a normal Tuesday morning.

"Sherlock?" Mycroft shook his head.

"Almost, but even worse." He gave a sigh, one that he would never show to any one. Anyone except Arya, that is. "My parents are here in London. I need to show them _Les Miserables_ but I despise using time wastefully."

Arya gave a small smile. "If you want, Mycroft, I can help you out." Mycroft looked at her expectantly. "I can stand in for you, as you realize." Mycroft widened his eyes in realization and his face suddenly turned into a full on smile.

"Why Arya, I never thought you would offer."

"I wanted to meet your parents though. I wonder how interesting they would be to have two sons like you and Sherlock."

Mycroft scoffed. "No, they are very boorish people. Nothing to really note. ALthough, my mother is a very accomplished scholar." Arya chuckled.

"I'm sure they are fine. You would consider my parents borish as well. My mother, at least. Father was a very humble person. I believe he could be boring to some people because of his unwavering sense of honor." She looked down glumly. "It's waht got him killed." The ginger who sat on the opposite side of the grand desk pursed his lips.

"You never truly told me about your childhood, except that you hated some people to make a kill list." Arya looked back up quizzically.

"Are you curious? It's not a very amusing tale."

"Then humor me, please. It's not every day that one can hear of a true fantasy world." Mycroft grinned. "Ones with zombies and dragons."

Arya smiled. "Oh well, you have to hear out everything then. You don't have much going on today anyways. One cannot stop men from talking about their stories so easily."

Mycroft sat back on his big chair. "Well, go right on ahead, Arya."

* * *

"You really think that you should go as yourself? I doubt my parents would like that their own child is pushing back on meeting his parents."

Arya smirked. "I know parents, Mycroft. If you just give them a sorrowful tale about not having parents, they will mother you like a hen. It will also allow me to not have to deal with personal questions that I would not be able to answer for you." Mycroft responded with a small grin.

"I suppose so, Arya." After unclasping his hands and standing up from his chair, Mycroft walked out of his office and Arya joined after grabbing a lemon scone. It was very similar to lemon cakes that she used to fight over with Sansa.

"Don't tell me that you walk around here, spilling crumbs all over." Arya shoved the scone in her mouth and gulped.

"Of course not," She grinned, but Mycroft looked back with an amused smile.

"I'm surprised that you do not need to get antacids. I believe you consume six to seven times more acidic food than a normal human." Arya just shrugged. "Do be careful, Arya. It would not be fun for you to go to the hospital anytime soon."

They both got into a sleek black car that drove them to Corinthia, the highest ranked hotel in London currently.

When they got out, they were immediately greeted by Mycroft's parents.

"Mycroft! Just in time. We will have plenty of time to get a quick bite and some tea before the intermission." Mrs. Holmes stopped for a second. "And who is this young lady, Mycroft?" She rose her eyebrow, demanding an answer quickly.

"Ah, dear mother, this is Arya Stark. She will accompany us today." Mrs. Holmes, in turn, scanned Arya for any information, much alike Mycroft and Sherlock.

"Well, I do not mind, but you should have told me earlier, Mycroft. I do not enjoy being left out on such importatnt deatils," Mrs. Holmes narrowed her eyes.

Arya stepped forward a bit. "I am sorry to intrude on your family fathering, Mr. Holmes and Mrs. Holmes. I have asked Mycroft to join you after learning that you would be going to a musical. I have never attended one in my life and I have never had the opportunity to spend such time with my parents, as they both passed away in my youth." Arya looked at the ground, downtrodden.

"Oh, my. Well, we will love to have you join us, Arya. Sherlock is not joining us, so it's not exactly a family gathering either." Putting a happy smile on her face, Arya accepted the hug that Mrs. Holmes gave her, while Mr. Holmes just stood awkwardly on the side.

"Let's get going now. We should at least go get a cup of tea before the show starts." Everyone nodded to Mr. Holmes and they got into the car.

It was not a long ride to the theater and Mycroft led everyone to get tea before the show started.

Mycroft glanced at his phone and exclaimed, "Oh dear. Mummy, I need to go back to the office. It seems that Sherlock has gotten himself arrested again." Mr. and Mrs. Holmes cried out that they should follow, but after a bit of reassuring, they went to watch the show with Arya.

* * *

"That was amazing!" Arya was amazed at the quality of the music and the story itself of the musical. She was gushing after the show ended with the two elder Holmes.

"Well, I am glad you were able to join us today, Arya. Mycroft and Sherlock were not able to join us today, but you were a great companion." Mr. Holmes smiled at her and gave her a pat on her back.

"Yes, I do agree. Such a dear, you are. Let us get some tea and refreshments now. It has been very long show and I need a nice warm cuppa to relax." Arya smiled and complied.

They went to a cafe that was much more classy and high end from the one next to the theaters. Each group had their own separate rooms for privacy and the tea was much more expensive.

"A lemon herbal for me. Thank you." Arya ordered her own drink and chatted unimportant things with Mycroft's parents.

"The day that I regret the most was when I introduced Mycroft and Sherlock to other children. That was such an idiotic decision." Mr. Holmes and Mrs. Holmes both sighed into their cups.

While Arya laughed, she realized something. She missed her parents and family.

* * *

"So how was it?" Mycroft asked without looking up from his paperwork.

Arya plopped down on a chair and she smiled. "It was pretty good. I do not understand why you dread it so much."

"Oh please, not if you keep on getting preached on and on about how you live." He set down his pen. "They are not unlike your own parents, Arya." Mycroft grabbed a pastry from the silver tray. "You are the one who told me about them."

Arya shrugged. "I guess." She didn't get angry or sad when Mycroft mentioned her parents. They were long dead anyways and she has already gotten over mourning for loss of loved ones. "It was interesting to meet your parents though. Your mother was very outgoing but your father was very quiet. I knew that he was analyzing me though." Arya fiddled with a silver fork. "I guess your smarts came from your mother and father, but in two different ways."

Mycroft only hummed in response. He took out some more papers from a briefcase and started working again while Arya took out Needle and polished it. It was calming to both of them.

* * *

"Did you just ignore everything I just said, Sherlock?" When Arya got into 221B Baker Street, she could hear John yelling at Sherlock very loudly. When she went up the stairs to see what the commotion was about, she was greeted with Sherlock's body limp on the floor of the flat and clutching his head while John was standing over him, obviously very angry.

"Grrr John. Just allow me to rest four hours, twenty-two minutes, and thirty-nine seconds. Then remaining drugs in my system will be sufficiently flushed in order to talk to you without looking at you like as if you were a talking vegetable." Arya knocked at the door and John looked over, while Sherlock gave a sigh and press a pillow against his ears.

"Did I come at a wrong time?" Arya frowned and looked toward Sherlock's body. "I could wait in the car."

"No. No, you came at a perfect time. You see here, Sherlock has been using more than a few types of drugs for the last few days. From the signs of his eyes, it's likely that it has actually been several weeks." Arya looked at Sherlock. "I brought him back a few days ago but he's still like this."

Arya pursed his lips into a fine line.

"I cannot tell you how you should act, Sherlock, but you should be smart enough to know that you are only hurting yourself," Sherlock growled and shooed Arya away with his hand.

Then, she heard some light footsteps and turned around to see Mary coming through the open door.

"Arya!" Mary came towards Arya to give her a hug. Arya received it happily and sat down on one of the chairs in the flat. "It's been a while."

"Yes, it has." Arya graciously received a cup of tea from Mrs. Hudson. "I heard that your wedding was very… exhilarating. And you are expecting soon." Arya sipped her tea and suddenly looked surprised. "Wow, Mrs. Hudson. You make the best cup of tea that I ever had!"

Mrs. Hudson giggled. "Well, just this once dear. But yes, I do make a good old cuppa."

Mary smiled and replied, "The wedding was very nice. I wanted to invite you but you told me you had plans."

"Yes, my deepest apologies Mary. I had to do some errands for Mycroft." Arya shuffled around in her satchel for a bit. "But I do have your present. I was not able to send it during your wedding." Arya took out an intricately shaped decorative knife.

"This is made from the best steel that you can ever find. The way of forging it was lost many millenniums before us."

Mary took it gently and held it to the lights. "This is beautifully made. How did you get it?"

Arya gave a small smile. "It was something my family has been given. Kind of. I hope you never have to use it though. Mary and John looked surprised.

"You gave this to me to protect me?" "This is a real weapon? I thought it was a decorative one!"

After laughing, Arya replied, "Its to protect you." But she paused for a second. "But I think if you were against a gun, I would suggest throwing it at your opponent."

"Yes, yes. That's very fine and dandy. Now, why are you here, Arya." Arya looked over to see Sherlock sitting upright on the bed with baggy eyelids.

Arya set her cup down and sighed,

"An acquaintance of Mycroft asked you for a favor. I am here to be a bodyguard for you just in case something happens." Sherlock waved her away.

"I don't need you. Go guard Mycroft or something," Sherlock tossed a pillow at her and Arya dodged to the side.

"Mycroft was the one who gave me the order. I am merely following it." Arya smiled and took another sip of her tea again. "Only for a month or two Sherlock. I'll pay half the rent too." John looked pleasantly surprised and nodded to his wife.

Mary smiled back widely.

"This is perfect, Sherlock! Now you'll be less likely to go back to your old habits." Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows, trying to get a hold of the situation.

John added his bit too. " Yes, I completely agree. Arya would be such a great companion." He paused. "What about Mycroft though?"

"What? I haven't given my approval yet!" Sherlock yelled to no one in particular.

Mrs. Hudson came in and tutted. "I could hear what you were talking about downstairs." She shook her head at Sherlock but turned towards Arya. "But it would be wonderful if you could come stay with Sherlock. He has always needed someone."

"No, no, no. I am not agreeing to this. I do not like the idea of a person invading my privacy" Sherlock hissed out.

"Apologies Sherlock. I have already given the key to my current residence back to the owner." Arya saw a man in a suit carry a suitcase in. "Ah, thank you very much. Please just set that near the door for now."

Eventually, Sherlock did give up. Or rather, he just stormed out of the living room and went to sleep in his room.

* * *

"If you go against Magnussen, you will find yourself going against me."

"Okay. I'll let you know if I notice. Now, what was I going to say? Oh yes! Bye bye!"

Arya heard the voices as she was coming up the staircase and immediately perked up. She ran up the stairs quickly to run straight into Mycroft as he was leaving the door.

"Mycroft! Already leaving?" Arya looked conflicted.

"Sorry, Arya. I need to head to meet some members of the Parliament right now. It seems like you are doing quite a good job though. Thank you very much. Sherlock is not as insufferable as he used to be." Mycroft walked right past her down the stairs. But Arya was quick to grab his arm.

"Why are you just ignoring me, Mycroft? You've kept pushing me away for the last few weeks and now you make me become Sherlock's bodyguard for the next few months! Did I do something wrong?!" Arya's voice carried out through the staircase and into the halls.

"My dear God! If you are going to do a lover's spat, don't do it too loudly or on the staircase!" Mrs. Hudson yelled out to them from the kitchen. Arya looked shocked for a second but quickly let go of Mycroft's arm.

"Mrs. Hudson, we are not lovers!" Arya cried out in disbelief but Mycroft gently tapped Arya's shoulder and smirked.

"Not to worry, Arya. I won't get too jealous that you are to stay in the same house as my own brother." In response, Arya looked back at Mycroft in shock, huffed, and pushed him aside to go to her room.

* * *

Arya came in with tea for Sherlock and his 'girlfriend.'

"I understand that whatever sexual activities that will happen will remain inside the bedroom?" Arya looked at the 'couple' with piercing eyes.

"Yes, of course. Now run along and do your..." Sherlock waved his hand. "...stuff Arya. I doubt that you can slack off on your work while you are gone."

Arya rolled her eyes but left the table with her cup of tea.

After several hours, Sherlock's new 'girlfriend' finally left and Arya came back down into the living room.

"Did John take the news seriously?" Arya plopped down onto John's chair. Sherlock scowled and frowned at her.

"Well, that is John's chair. And for your information, no. John is still very excited that I made another human companion. Or a lover. Pick your choice." Sherlock quickly went back into sounding bored of his present predicament.

"I hope that there will be little repercussion after your 'girlfriend' finds out that you have lied to her." Arya snorted. "But I doubt that very much."

* * *

"Yoo-hoo! Sherlock? Would you mind helping me with the cabinets? It's starting to creak," Mrs. Hudson yelled from the floor below.

"I'm busy, Mrs. Hudson." Arya snorted at Sherlock's words. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Ask Arya or John."

"Sherlo―" Arya looked up from the paper she was reviewing. She stood up and reached toward a cylindrical box and slid out into the kitchen she and Sherlock shared.

After a few hurried footsteps, Mrs. Hudson came into the flat, tensed up.

"Sherlock. Its… Well, there are these men downstairs."

"Tell them to come up, Mrs. Hudson."

* * *

"Why's he armed?" One of the security men asked John.

"I'm off duty." John regretted holding onto the tire lever on himself.

"This is Doctor John Watson, if you know who I am, you know who he is. Don't you, Mr. Magnussen." Sherlock looked towards the door to see an aged man with a slight smirk permanently on his face.

"I understand that we were meeting at your office."

"This _is_ my office." Magnussen waved his hands. "Well, it is now."

"Sir, this one?" One of the men grabbed John by his arm.

"Get him a chair, he can stay," Sherlock replied.

"He can _stand"_ Magnussen looked piercingly and John only nodded at Sherlock.

"Now, where is the other one. The girl? If she is to be at my office, it is quite rude for her to hide, no?" Magnussen sat down on the sofa and gestured to them.

"If you are sitting, there is no reason for me not to sit. Arya came out, but not as her own face, but rather of Cersei Lannister when she was about twenty-five years old. Her cold gaze matched that of Magnussen and Sherlock saw that Magnussen's eyes widening and gazing right back at her.

"And your name. Arya Stark? A pleasure to meet you. It interests me to not have heard your name until two weeks ago." Magnussen narrowed his eyes towards Arya again when she pulled up a chair and sat down on it.

"Well of course. My name is actually Cersei Lancaster. I do not doubt that you have heard of my family before?"

Magnussen narrowed his eyes in response again. The Lancaster family, apparently, were a existing noble house in Scotland. Arya was able to get some DNA samples of the last living Lancaster that was already in his seventies and strangely found that Cersei Lannister and the Lancaster shared a very common DNA. Using Mycroft's powers, she had booked an appointment with Mr. Lancaster and revealed her 'heritage' to him and he was more than happy to accept her into his household and legitimize her, especially after learning that she was an accomplished personnel in Britain.

' _Very different from how Cersei Lannister would be like in Westeros.'_ Arya laughed to herself silently. She spent part of her time keeping up the front as Cersei Lancaster, keeping up the paperwork, and fooling others into thinking that she was just the daughter of Mr. Lannister's late son.

"Legitimacy?" Magnussen mumbled. Arya could tell that Magnussen was trying to find out her "weak points," but as long as Magnussen was not Mycroft who she had told everything about, no one would know. There were no records of her real past anywhere.

"Mr. Magnussen," Sherlock called out. The cold stares that Arya and Magnussen gave to each other turned to look at Sherlock.

"I have been asked to negotiate for the return of the letters. I am aware that you do not make copies of any sensitive -"

"Is it like the rest of the flat?"

"Sir?"

* * *

The meeting did not go on very well. Magnussen disgusted Arya and after he left Arya sighed as she slid down into a chair. John was feeling the same

She took off her mask after John did a thorough sweep through the apartment for any bugs or hidden cameras Magnussen while Sherlock sat down with a smile.

"Did you notice the one extraordinary thing he did," Sherlock said with wide, thinking eyes.

"There was a moment that kind of stuck in the mind, yeah." John opened with a face just screaming shock.

"Exactly- when he let us see the letters!" Sherlock exclaimed loudly and jumped up. "So he's brought them to London. So whatever he says, he's ready to deal!" He went through Magnussen's schedule and picked a good time to break into his office.

"Wait, Arya." Arya looked up from polishing Needle. "Why did you hide from Magnussen. And how did you fool him into thinking that you were Cersei? Or whoever you claimed you are?" John looked at her quizzically.

"Ah, John. You have never seen me go outside while you were with Sherlock, right?" John nodded. "Every time I left the flat, I always put on the mask of Cersei, a face that is, in fact, the noble heiress of the Lannister family in Scotland." Arya shrugged at John's surprised look.

"Did you know, Sherlock?"

"No, but now that you revealed that you are in fact 'Cersei Lancaster,' it does give us a great advantage. Another thing that I have noticed was the fact that Magnussen was not able to truly know your weak points. Especially since there are so few documents about Cersei Lancaster."

"Yes, well Mycroft told me to do this, but truthfully, I just wanted to stab Magnussen right on the sofa," Arya chuckled.

"I can expect that you are going tomorrow as well, Arya?" Sherlock questioned.

Arya smiled in return. "Of course. I am your bodyguard, am I not?"


End file.
